Bryan D. Brown

Recently, on an internet message board I frequent, I got into a debate with someone over the film 300. I sank to a new level of pretentiousness by engaging in a debate over a film I haven’t even seen yet - but it is the internet, and therefore such requirements are not… requirements.

To be honest, the debate wasn’t so much about the content of the film, rather about critiquing the film and film in general. For those who don’t know, 300 is a remake inspired by Frank Miller’s graphic novel of the same name - also based on the 1960’s film called The 300 Spartans about a historical battle between the Spartans and the Persians. 300 grossed $70 million it’s opening weekend, and has grossed $179,941,919 since it opened. The folks on this particular message board were raving about the film without providing any justification beyond “I enjoyed it,” and those who had the audacity to critique the film were chastised for not “appreciating a good time.” Being a (former) artist, I made the silly argument that simply because a movie does well at the box office and that people, generally speaking, like it - that does not necessarily mean it is a good movie. I also made the mistake of quoting people smarter than myself, such as L.A. Times film critic Carina Chocano.

Someday, maybe, the “entertainment defense” will no longer hold water. But for now, we’re slogging through the era of the completely implausible denial. Like many films that seem to riff on everything without stooping to make a point (which would be just so hopelessly earnest and dorky), “300″ proudly claims to be about nothing. Or rather, like another type of purchased pleasure, it claims to be about anything you want it to be. As long as a movie is dumb and violent enough, it can quote whatever cultural allusion is handy, then deny that it did with impunity.

The interesting question is how “entertainment” has come to be accepted as a valid, irreducible argument against interpretation; how, in a broader sense, the act of putting things in context has come to be seen as inherently suspect. Whether it’s the attorney general claiming lack of clarity on the firings of U.S. attorneys, or a Lionsgate executive admitting mistakes were made regarding the torture billboards for “Captivity” pasted all over town, it seems that no connection is too clear, no cause and effect too obvious for shocked denial and feigned surprise not to be a viable option.

Brilliantly stated, and largely why I think why most recent films tend to - put bluntly - suck.

I’m talking about this to get to another point. Recently, I watched This Film Is Not Yet Rated (2006), a documentary by Kirby Dick on the MPAA’s Classification and Rating Administration, and how they operate in virtual secrecy while retaining almost complete control over how a movie is rated. The rating, which the MPAA claims has no impact a films success, can have drastic impacts on how a film is marketed and released. The rating system, therefore, has almost complete control over what movies make it to theaters on a wide scale. Your film gets an NC-17, and you’ll be lucky to break even. If you targeted your film for a PG-13 and get an R, well, you still might be well buggered.

The jist of the film is that this rating board puts ratings on films based on an entirely arbitrary set of standards, with no accountability to anyone, especially a filmmaker. Should a filmmaker wish to appeal, then they find themselves in front of an entirely different “anonymous” board, which, as it turns out, is made up of major players in the film industry - such as CEO of Fox Searchlight Steve Gilula, VP of Sony Pictures John Lodician, numerous theater chain owners and two clergy. The question as to why one film gets an R rating and another film, which contains similar material, gets an NC-17 is an impossible one to answer, as it is apparent that the system is deliberately organized to remove consistency from the ratings given.

Here’s the deal. Films are rated by some arbitrary standards, and films are critiqued by some arbitrary standards. The whole industry has become one big arbitrary mess, all the while raking in billions of dollars on the backs of the very artists who’s films they are controlling, and the very consumer who’s spending choices they are controlling.

The failure of critics to challenge film turns it into nothing more than a product to be consumed, and no level of appreciation need by applied. Film becomes nothing more than deciding between Coke and Pepsi. So what do you do if you happen to think both Coke and Pepsi taste like crap?

Film (and music and television, for that matter) isn’t just supposed to be a product - it is supposed to be an art form that challenges as well as entertains. Not to indulge too much hyperbole, film is supposed to be commentary and reflection of our times. When it only serves to entertain, then it becomes nothing more than something light passes through to create some interesting patterns on a screen - and that is a waste of a medium.

When I decided to add a “Movie” section, I thought it might be difficult to choose an inaugural film to review. I felt that the movie that kicks off this section should be something special. I have no interest in providing my thoughts on Spiderman, or even Borat, as those films are usually done to death by other people. I wanted the films in this section to be somewhat unique - movies that most people wouldn’t think about. Given that I had just watched The Warriors (1979) last night, I thought it would be a perfect film to start off with.

Real quick, I have a tendency to rate films on a rather blatant two star rating system. Two stars is a good movie, one star is “ehhhh”, and zero stars is a waste of time. No half-stars, and nothing too complicated. I actually hate star rating systems on principle, but in some cases they are useful. Anyway, on to The Warriors…

The Warriors (1979) is a film set “sometime in the future” in a dystopian New York City where gangs rule the streets. The gangs, in this case, are not the same kind of gangs that are in movies like Boys in the Hood, or Menace 2 Society, but instead are cartoon-like archetypes of various New York City burroughs. To name just a few, there is a gang of mimes in Greenwich Village called The High Hats, a gang of baseball players in called The Baseball Furies, and an all-female gang called The Lizzies. And you have an up-and-coming gang from Coney Island called The Warriors.

The plot of The Warriors is simple. Cyrus, the leader of The Gramercy Riffs, has called delegates from all of the New York City gangs together, in Brooklyn, in an attempt to end the inter-gang rivalries, bring peace, and take control of the city from the police. During his speech, he is assassinated and the murder is pinned on The Warriors. The rest of the film is spent focusing on The Warriors trying to battle back to their hideout in Coney Island, with police and every gang in New York City after them. Believe it or not, the story is loosely based on Anabasis from early Greek literature.

Given the simplicity of the plot, it’s not really a question of whether or not The Warriors will make it back to Coney Island, but who will make it back, how they will get there, and what will happen to them along the way. While you would expect a movie about gangs to be violent, The Warriors is fairly tame by today’s standards. The fight scenes are all stylized in a very comic book way, if for no other reason than the gangs involved are cartoon-like themselves. In some ways, the style of this film is very much a precursor to films like Sin City, which favor style over substance, but that style is what makes these films enjoyable nevertheless.

Aside from the style, it’s the subtle, and in some cases not so subtle, moments of homo-eroticism that really dominate the film. Take, for instance, the scene in which three of The Warriors, who were separated from the group, hook up with the all-woman gang, The Lizzies. The Lizzies take the unsuspecting Warriors back to their hideout for “some fun”. Not only is one of The Warriors completely disinterested in the women’s advances, but The Lizzies themselves have scenes in which their sexual orientation is a bit ambiguous. Obviously, their name, The Lizzies, is also a play on that ambiguity.

It’s not just the situations that play themselves up to this homo-eroticism, but it’s the names of The Warriors themselves. Swan, Cochise, Cowboy, Snow, Rembrandt… these are names that might be better suited for The Village People then for a rough gang.

Another scene that particularly stands out is a love scene between Swan, the leader of The Warriors, and Mercy, a woman who has joined them along the way. Swan is so reluctant to engage in anything physical with Mercy, even when she throws herself at him - literally begging for him to keep going - he simply insults her and walks away. Swan appears torn, as though being physical with Mercy is somehow uncomfortable.

The Warriors is a very enjoyable film, and has seen a slight resurgence since a video game based on the movie was released last year. The style and campiness of the film really make a worthwhile experience. ** out of **